Rain's Only Friend
by poxelda
Summary: Jack helps Mac find some answers after Mac's first love commits suicide. Warning: Mentions of suicide-more aftermath than actual suicide, also warning for language because I have a potty mouth. LOL.
1. Chapter 1

*** **I wrote this to process some RL crap. I wasn't going to publish it, and it probably sucks, but hey serious emotional whump, right? Gotta be worth something. LOL The timeline is also a little fudged. We know Mac was only 16 or 17 when he started MIT, I kinda hope he was a little older ortherwise this plot would be...well wrong somehow. Thanks for reading.**

Mac stared out the window. Jack eyed him worried.

"You ok, bud." Jack winced. Of course the kid isn't ok. Who could be ok when they're on the way to identify a body? Mac sighed and gave Jack a half smile and nodded. It was his way of letting Jack know he understood what Jack meant.

"So who is this Lilly again?" Jack asked his voice husky as he quieted it. Mac sighed.

"Lizzy, we were close, a long time ago." Mac again stared into space. Jack frowned. Even Bozer had never heard of this woman. The look in Mac's face was as bad as when Nikki shot him, but Mac kept it in with a tighter control. Jack and the others were worried.

"When were you together?" Mac rubbed his forehead. He had a hell of a headache. He didn't want to deal with this. Jack kept looking at him waiting. Mac sighed.

"I met her my first year at MIT." Mac whispered. He really didn't want to dig this up all over again.

"You dated?" Mac grimaced.

"Off and on." Jack frowned. Mac was disseminating. He hadn't hedged this much when talking about Frankie. For Jack that translated as an open wound Mac didn't want to revisit. Before Jack could think of a way to pry Mac open, they arrived at the San Francisco police department. Mac didn't pause he undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the car before Jack turned off the rental. He had to jog to catch up to his friend. Mac didn't seem to notice. He passed through the metal detector having to leave his Swiss army knife. Jack had to check in his Barreta. Mac disappeared into the bowels of the police department as Jack filled out the paperwork and showed his credentials. Jack gritted his teeth with impatience.

It wasn't hard to find the Morgue. It never was. Mac thought grimly. They were always in the untravelled grimy part of the building, usually the basement. The hall way could have been as clean and brightly lit as a hospital and it would still feel dirty. Mac wrinkled at the familiar rotten smell of death and chemicals. He stopped at the window.

"I'm Angus MacGyver, I'm here to identify a body?" The man in blue scrubs nodded. His wrinkled face held too much sadness.

"The suicide?" The air suddenly left the room. Suicide?

"I don't know." Mac muttered. God, I hope not. Mac ran a shaking hand through his hair. The man nodded pulled a file out of a shelf on the desk and waved at him to go through a set of double doors. Mac found himself walking slower and slower. He didn't want to be here. Maybe it wasn't Lizzy. Maybe she was still happy with...what's his name? Mac was playing games with himself. He could never forget the name Mathew Grant. Mac swallowed down familiar old pain, it tasted like bile. The man opened a refrigerator and slid out a covered body. Mac absently wondered how they would get bodies out of the top row of refrigerators. He glanced up and studied a system of pulleys. Mac closed his eyes. Anything but look, let it be anyone but Lizzy. The man beside him shuffled and cleared his throat.

Other than the unnatural grey white, she looked the same. Mac reached out an ran her honey flaxen hair through his fingers. He closed his eyes. It was brittle, lifeless not like the strands of gold that seemed to sparkle when ever she moved. Mac was glad her eyes were closed. He wanted to remember them leaf green and alive, crinkling at the edges when she laughed. Mac smiled sadly. They had laughed a lot, for awhile at least. He held her hand. Her nails were as long as they always were, rediculously impractical in the lab, and her nail polish was chipped, bitten. It used to drive him crazy. He nodded putting the hand back and cleared his throat.

"How did she die?" He asked his voice much calmer than he felt. The man across him almost showed sympathy. Mac thought of how many times he'd done this and wondered why on earth would anyone want that job.

"Overdose of medications, mixed with dranno and antifreeze." Mac raised an eyebrow. No doubt she was serious. Any one of those would be enough to kill someone, but all together. At MIT Lizzy's concentration had been chemistry. Mac could see her with hair tied back in a pony tail wearing goggles biting her bottom lip as she carefully poured liquids through a pipet. Mac rubbed his eyes and saw the same picture only with her mixing a cocktail to end her life.

"Why?"

"Why does anyone?" The man said with a shrug. Mac jumped. He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud. He cleared his throat.

"Is her husband or father going to claim the body?" The man frowned and flipped through the folder in his hand. He shook his head.

"There's no one listed as family except you." Mac's eyes threated to over flow. He nodded his jaw clenching. "I assume you have a funeral home you want to use?" Mac stared at him blankly. Funeral home? Mac had been to funerals, a lot of funerals but he'd never had to plan one. He had no idea.

"Why don't we do the paperwork and we can send the information to you later?" Jack said at his elbow. Mac felt as if Jack was carrying him wounded off a battlefield. Mac brushed at a tear that escaped. The man nodded. Everything became a blur of papers, instructions and information thrown at him that didn't register. Jack managed all of it, fielding questions Mac would never have thought to ask. Mac was dimly aware of walking then Jack's car. He had no idea where they were or where they were going. Jack reached over and put a hand on the back of his neck. Mac looked out the passenger's window suddenly exhausted.

Somehow they ended up at the beach. Mac leaned his head in his crossed hands hanging off his knees. Jack sat quietly beside him. It was late enough in the day only body surfers and couples walked along the rolling waves. Mac closed his eyes feeling the wind rustle his hair. In his imagination it was her fingers. For some reason she loved to run her hands through his hair. Mac smiled at the memory. Not that he minded, it was a simple intimate gesture that carried all of their moments where they...Mac rubbed his face a little surprise to find his cheeks wet.

"We weren't family." Mac jumped at his own voice. Where had that come from?

"Obviously, she thought you were." Jack said. Mac looked away closing his eyes.

"We were going to be." Mac's voice almost vanished in the tumble of the waves. Jack's eyes widened. Mac glanced at him and managed a small smile.

"You were going to marry her?" Mac looked out at the long blue curved horizon. He nodded. Jack waited for Mac to let it go at his own pace.

"We were both the same age. We met the first day of MIT...Jack she was so smart…" Mac looked far away seeing the long registration line. She'd worn a green sweater and jeans. She could have been wearing a billion dollar jeweled designer dress and she wouldn't have been more beautiful. The way she looked at him part mischief part flirting. Mac remembered he'd turned red and hot as an oven's burner. Somehow she saw past his awkwardness, saw the true him. Other than Bozer she was the first one who ever did. Mac looked down and picked at a hang nail. "She was my first…" Lover? Love? Everything? Mac dabbed at the steady stream of tears.

"Oh, brother I am so sorry." Jack said putting a hand on the juncture of Mac's shoulder and neck. Mac nodded and sniffed. He stood up and started walking. Jack didn't say anything only kept in step with him. He didn't pressure Mac to talk, only remained a steady presence. Mac shot Jack a grateful smile.

"Thanks for coming, I didn't…" Mac shrugged having no idea what he was going to say. Everything was whirling in his head-memories, feelings...anything except what he needed logic, steps, something solid. Jack put his arms across Mac's shoulder and pulled him in for a quick hug.

"Always, bro." Jack paused wanting to ask, but hesitating. Mac sighed.

"You want to know why you and Bozer never heard about her?" Jack nodded.

"Me I get, I mean you never talked about Frankie until she died...uh, fake died. You know what I mean. But why not Bozer?" Mac's jaw clenched and his face scrunched in pain. Jack regretted asking.

"I guess...It...I guess it hurt too much." Mac sighed his shoulders slumped. He let it go. "My sophmore year...I was getting antsy, unfocussed. I didn't know it then, but I wanted something...I don't know, I guess to help people more, something more practical? I thought it was Lizzy." Mac stopped and looked out to the swaying ocean. He watched a seagull glide overhead. For some reason, it made him cry more.

"She didn't?" Mac smiled and wiped his face again.

"Oh, she did. We were excited to be a family, just the two of us…" Mac's face darkened and Jack could see a slow burning anger ignite in the kid's sky blue eyes. Mac swallowed and glanced at Jack then looked away. "Her family was old money. In their circles, status was everything. And I…" Mac shrugged.

"You were from the wrong side of the tracks?" Jack growled.

"Something like that. I was there on scholarship. I had no real roots, no name that meant anything...they didn't want me to ruin their daughter's life." Jack looked like he wanted to punch someone in the face. Mac smiled at his partner's loyalty. He nudged Jack with his elbow and kept walking. "They had the perfect partner picked out, a Mathew Grant. He was a senior at Harvard and worked his father in a hedge fund law firm." Jack scowled looking like he'd just eated a raw worm.

"That's disgusting." Mac laughed and nodded in agreement, "so they forced Lizzy to marry this Mathew guy?" Jack guessed. Mac closed his eyes and grimaced. Jack could see they were coming to the deepest part of the open wound. Jack stopped and looked at Mac worried. Mac shook his head and met his friend's gaze with eyes that were at once young and old.

"No, she chose him." Mac wiped his face. The sun had started to creep down to the horizon. The cloudless sky above was tinged with a clear peach. Mac shrugged. "She left school to marry him and I went into the army." Mac turned and headed back to the rental slamming the door shut. Jack frowned then followed at a slower pace. By the time Jack reached the car, Mac was sitting in the passenger's seat reading through the paper work the coroner had given them. The kid had his game face on, gone was the exposed emotion. Jack knew Mac considered his grieving done and focused his attention on the practical details of dealing with the body. Jack sighed knowing Mac wasn't remotely near dealing with the fall out from all this. Jack pulled into traffic noticing Mac looking at the paperwork puzzled.

"What?" He asked. Mac frowned and looked up at the older man.

"I don't understand why her father and husband weren't listed as next of kin. I mean we were close, but that was over ten years ago." Jack smiled.

"Maybe we should ask them?" Mac looked up with a raised eyebrow and slowly shared Jack's smile. He might have been a young kid at the time, but he was an adult now and this time he wouldn't just slink away.

"So who first? The dickhead she married or daddy dearest?" Jack asked pulling out his phone to call Riley to make arrangements for a late flight to Boston.

Xxx xxx xxx

The Elengton was a sprawling mansion in the elite town of Nantucket, Massachusets. Jack felt his skin itch as they passed houses that had to cost millions of dollars. He felt like he'd shown up at the President's wedding wearing a jock strap. He glanced over at Mac. Mac as usual looked like he belonged anywhere he went. Jack smiled. He and Thornton had been instrumental in teaching Mac the trade craft of being an operator, but the kid came prewired, born to do the job. Jack scowled remembering all the trauma that had given him the ability to pidgeon hole feelings a skill needed to be a chameleon. Jack looked over and saw Mac looking at him with a knowing smile.

"You ok there Jack?" The hint of teasing in his voice told Jack Mac knew exactly what he was thinking and how he felt. Jack tipped up his chin as they approached the ornate steel gates at the end of a long and winding drive.

"I'm just thinking how punchworthy a guy is for naming his house." Mac chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah, no one likes naming where they live, how's your grandparent's?" Jack glared at Mac as if the kid had spit in his pie.

"Now that's different, that's a ranch. A ranch earns it's name, it works hard, produces something. This…" Jack waved at the oppulent main building resting on an acre of perfectly manicured thick green lawn. "This is pernicious."

"I think you mean presumtious, but yeah I agree." Mac's voice saddened. A wannabe cop with gold braids draped over the shoulders of an oversized green uniform removed his white hat and held it in his white gloves.

"May I ask the reason for your visit to Elegton manor?" Jack glanced at Mac eyebrow raised. Mac nodded but kept his face schooled.

"I would like to speak to Earnest Bowling." Mac said leaning over to speak out the window.

"In reference to what?" The man asked.

"His daughter, Lizzy." For the first time, the man looked uncomfortable. He nodded and strode back to a classically decorated guard station. Mac narrowed his eyes and glanced at Jack. Jack gritted his teeth.

"Gotta tell ya, Mac. I'm kinda glad these aren't your in-laws." Mac snorted.

"Me too." The guard skipped back to the car as if he'd walked in dog poop.

"I regret to inform you, the Missus and Mister have no idea of whom you are referring to and would like you to exit the premises forewith." Jack looked at Mac with disbelief. Mac opened his mouth too late to stop Jack's reaction. Moving too fast for the guard to process, Jack was out of the car, grabbing the man by his braids and slamming him against the steel gate. Mac rolled his eyes and climbed out. Mac was just as furious but knew it wasn't the guard's fault. Even if he was a pompous ass that looked like he'd escaped from the Emerald City.

"Allright, green boy, you tell that asshat that we need to talk to him about why he dumped his little girl to rot in the LAPD morgue." Jack gritted. The man's eyes were wide with fear.

"I didn't dump her anywhere." A new voice said. Jack dropped his hold on the gatesman. The man scurried away.

"I'm sorry, sir…" The man babbled. Earnest Bowling was clearly a man used to others kissing his ass. Jack didn't like him. He rode in a golf cart dressed as if he were a model for Polo gear. His silver hair looked shellacked back like wings and his eyes were souless moldy stones. His mouth tightened, his lips disappearing in the fold as he recognized MacGyver. Mac strolled up to the gate and stood directly across from the man meeting his gaze without any sign of being intimidated. Jack smiled and stepped back. He could feel Mac's anger coil around hiim. No one else would ever notice it, but it came out methodically usually as he was building a gadget to blow the shit out of someone.

"Earnest." Mac said. His voice was respectful but with Bowling's expression Mac might just well have spit in the man's face. Jack had no doubt the man was use to 'sir' or 'Mr. Bowling' hell maybe even 'your highness.'

"Angus." The man growled. He flung it at Mac like an insult. Mac didn't notice.

"I went to identify Lizzy'z body…"

"ELIZABETH is no longer our problem nor is she yours." Earnest narrowed his eyes at Mac. Jack watched Mac's hands form tight fists. Jack was pissed too. He stepped forward.

"So tell me Earnie, do all rich assholes dump their kid or is it just you?" The man's face turned a deep shade of red. Jack smiled at him as if he'd given the older man the highest compliment. Mac tried to hide his amusement. Bowling smiled, his teeth sticking out in uneven rows like a crocodile. "Obviously not." He said pointedly staring into Mac's eyes. The innuendo was obvious. Mac flinched but recovered almost instantly. Jack made his own fists and stepped forward. Without breaking his stare into Bowling's eyes, Mac managed to grab Jack's arm and reel in his friend's protective rage. Jack glanced at Mac and frowned. The kid's face was unreadable, completly blank of any emotion. Even Jack couldn't tell what Mac was feeling. He didn't like it one bit.

"C'mon Mac lets get out of here, this Bozo…"

"This is none of your business you worthless hillbilly." Bowling growled angling his head back and literally looking down his nose at Jack. Jack's fist wanted to redesign that beak in the worst way. His arm twitched with the impulse.

"What happened? She did everything you wanted her to, why did you cut her off?" Mac's voice was soft and tight with pain. Bowling glared at him then spun the wheel on the golf cart. Before taking off, the older man shook his head and stared at Mac his mouth working a long time before he could spit out words.

"What do you want, Angus? Your place isn't here, it never has been." The man's cold voice broke through where his beligerence couldn't. Mac's jaw clenched as his eyes wettened.

"She listed me as her only next of kin, so I guess she thought I belong here." Mac answered back in the same tone. Bowling laughed and shook his head.

"You don't know shit, boy. She was crazy. This was her last way to get back at you for abanoning her so don't be so sanctimonius." The man jerked as he stomped the pedal. Before he went twenty feet, Mac called to him.

"Do you had any input for Lizzy's funeral?" Bowling waved over his shoulder.

"It's all on you, boy. If you hadn't stuck your nose in…this is all on you." Mac blinked in surprise. He stepped up to the bars of the gate and opened his mouth to yell, but Bowling was already out of sight. Mac sighed and leaned his head against the sharp metal. He glanced at Jack. Jack frowned not understanding the expression on his partner's face. His face seemed to twitch with a kaliedescope of competing emotions fighting for control. In the end, Mac looked like a beaten abandoned puppy. Jack saw Mac glance back once at the big house and shake his head. He sat and rubbed his forehead. Jack narrowed his eyes recognizing the familiar signs of a headache. It showed the pain Earnest Bowling had churned up in the kid. Mac had been pleading for Lizzy's father to give a damn to be a decent father. Mac wanted dear old dad to see Lizzy's life was worth something, no matter what had happened. Jack sighed and turned away biting his lip. Mac wanted Bowling to be a father unlike Mac's. Mac had left believing Lizzy would be happy back in the arms of her family. Being told she felt abandoned by him? Oh kid, Jack thought. This was gonna hit the kid hard, like Hiroshima hard. Glancing over Jack could see Mac had packed away his own feelings chosing to focus on LIzzy's. Everyone else first was Mac's motto. Jack knew that, but he was going to be damned if that included a dead girl.. Mac looked washed out.

"Hey, bud how about we go eat something?" Jack asked as he backed out of the driveway. Mac didn't seem to hear him. Jack could see him sinking inside the nuke wasteland this was burning in his heart. Jack reached over and put a hand on the back of Mac's neck. "Hey, how are you doing? Do you want to go back to the hotel and rest? You don't have to do this all today." Mac rubbed his forehead. Jack recognized the fold between his eyes that indicated serious pain. Mac sighed and shook his head.

"Let's go see Mathew." Jack waited, deciding if he should make it a statement instead of a question. Mac looked over his eyes silently pleading _Not now, please? Not now._.

"Fine, let's go see Mathew then we can go back to the hotel." Jack nodded mentally adding 'and eat.' Mac sank back against the back of his seat and offered Jack a weak smile. He turned and stared out the window seeing only the past. .

Mathew Grant had been a put-together rich kid when Mac first met him. He always wore suits fitted made out of silks and linens from around the world. Each one cost more than Mac's housing for one semester. Other than the suits there wasn't anything memorable about Grant. He was pale as dough and parrotted whatever his parents, especially his father said or believed. When Mac saw them together, Grant and Lizzy looked happy. Well Lizzy did, or Mac thought she had. Mac wiped at his damp eyes. What if he'd been wrong? What if he had abandoned Lizzy? He could have stayed, could have pressed…

"...the place?" Mac blinked and looked over to Jack.

"What?" Jack paused his head tilted to the side his gentle eyes studying Mac. Mac swallowed and looked up nodding. Both men were surprised to find Mathew Grant lived in a shady neighbor hood in an overpriced brownstone. Mac and Jack shared a glance.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jack asked. Mac's mouth quirked at one edge. He knew the thousands of questions under the question by heart. In answer he unclicked his belt and slipped out of the car. Jack shook his head and sighed. At least he was here to catch the kid when he fell. Mac had tried going to SF on the DL. Jack smiled. One of these days, the kid would learn that wasn't going to happen as long as Jack had something to say about it.

The pair passed an exhausted mother who fanned herself as she watched a group of kids playing in the street. A group of women standing and leaning on the stairs of the brownstone next door stopped talking as they turned like a pack of lionesses watching the two men's every move as they entered the brownstone. Mac and Jack shared a look feeling like they'd just been through a police lineup.

The stairs creeked worse than a haunted house. The dingy cracking paint and cobwebbed dangling light fixture spoke of a day long past when better days were expected but never came. Mac swallowed and cleared his throat as he rapped on Grant's apartment. A woman in curlers answered the door. She peeped from a narrow opening chained together.

"Yeah?" Her voice was only a tone away from being shrill.

"I'm here to see Mathew Grant." The woman narrowed her eyes taking in both men.

"Does he owe you money?"

"No this is about his wife, Lizzy." The woman froze, her eyes widening.

"He doesn't have a wife named Lizzy. You got the wrong guy." Mac looked at her puzzled. Jack frowned understanding immediately. He gently pushed Mac to the side.

"He never told you about her, did he?" Jack's gentle voice conveyed layers of sympathy. The woman flinched and shook her head. She undid the lock and stepped back. The apartment was small but homey. Mac crossed to it drawn immediately to a wall covered almost completly with photographs of people. Mac smiled. Family photos always fascinated him. He looked into these tiny snaps of happy moments like a peeping tom wondering what the world looked on the other side. Mac had a few photos. He gritted his teeth shoving away a flood of familiar emotions.

Most of the photos were the typical ones you'd find in a family. He was surprised to see pictures of grandkids. Mac frowned then realized that this woman must have had kids from a previous marriage. Why did Mathew keep Lizzy from her? He turned and offered a smile.

"Lovely family." The woman's face grew soft with pride. It vanished when she remembered why they were here.

"Would you like a drink?" Mac barely heard the question. A photo in a silver frame on a side table caught his eye.

"Coffee'd be great, if you have it." Jack answered when Mac said nothing. The woman nodded and patted at her curlers as she left. Jack looked over Mac's shoulder noting the slight tremble in Mac's hands. Mac closed his eyes and handed Jack the picture stepping away keeping his back to his partner while he tried to control a storm of emotions.

The picture was taken in front of the student union at MIT. Jack recognized it as one of the places he'd had to go to steel stuff when they'd found Franke. Jack's eyes widened. In the center a tall, somber man in black chinos and polo shirt smiled his at the camera while a curvaceous blond in a graduation black. Other graduates spilled out in the backround, but Jack had no doubt the guy was Mathew Grant and the girl was Lizzy. Jack licked his lipps and looked sadly at Mac. Joy of life seemed to make her 3D popping out of the picture. In a photo of celebration, she embodied celebration itself. Still there was something in the guy's hold on her Jack didn't like. They looked up as the woman walked in three cups easily balanced in steady hands. Jack carefully took his and gave her a whistle of admiration.

"If I tried that we'd be drinking off the floor." The woman blushed, handed Mac his cup then perched on the couch. They all sipped no one quite knowing how to start. Jack again came to the rescue.

"This coffee is fantastic!"

"I work in a diner, they have a secret recipe and grind their own beans. I've worked there for years." Mac set his coffee down.

"My name's Angus MacGyver, you can call me Mac, and this is Jack Dalton. I'm sorry to barge in like this…" She dismissed Mac's apology with a wave.

"It's kinda nice to have visitors. I'm Kitty Grant...Mathew's wife." Jack frowned. A glint of fear entered her eyes. He expected anger and surprise but fear? Jack's hackles raised. He had the feeling he wouldn't like this Mathew. He glanced at Mac and noticed he saw it to.

"Thank you, Kitty." Mac started. He held out his hand. It took Jack a second to realize he wanted the picture back. Jack handed it over. Mac glanced at it and his face twitched with pain. Jack frowned. He knew no one else would have noticed. Jack could feel the storm brewing under Mac's stiff self control, and it was a category 5. "This is Lizzy Bowling, she married Mathew after she graduated MIT." To their surprise, Kitty laughed and slumped in relief.

"Oh that's Lizzy? No they dated duriing college but she left him at the altar. They never got married." Mac felt as if a fist blasted into his gut and yanked out his liver. He glanced at Jack. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"They never married?" Mac couldn't keep the high pitch from his voice.

"No, she'd show up here high as a kite begging for drugs or money but he always sent her packing. As far as I know, she was someone his father foisted on him." Jack frowned and pulled out his phone zipping off a quick text to Riley. She answered immediatly. Jack licked his lips and leaned forward.

"Mrs. Grant...Kitty. Not only were they married, they still are married." Kitty's face faded to white. He coffee cup fell to the floor, the grimy carpet sucking up the liquid. Mac stared at Jack open mouthed. Kitty stood up, her back ramrod straight, her hands wrapped into fists.

"That mother fucker! Oh my God! I knew he was a cheater...but another wife! And her pictures in my house!" Kitty snagged the photo out of Mac's hands and threw it against the wall. "That son of a bitch!" Mac and Jack glanced at each other not sure what to do. With the worst timing in the world, they heard a key in the lock and a man entered. Older, with a lot less hair Mac easily recognized Mathew Grant.

Grant's eyes widened in horror as he recognized Mac then saw the rage on his wife's face.

"You worthless piece of trash!" Kitty railed reaching out for the closes thing she could touch some sort of wooden trophy. She threw it at him. Grant ducked wincing as it nicked his forehead and bounced off leaving a bleeding gash. Jack smiled content to watch Kitty rip the asshole apart. Mac had a more urgent need. He stepped between them with his arms up.

"Kitty, please!" Kitty growled ready to go through Mac if she had to. Jack winced not wanting to fight the spitfire in curlers, "I have to know what happened." Mac pleaded. He couldn't hide the agony and need in his eyes for a moment and Kitty saw it. She shook her head and stepped back glaring at her husband. She rolled up her sleeves. Jack bit his lip to keep from laughing. Kitty might have called a truce, but the second Mac and Jack left, Jack wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Grant's days were numbered.

Jack saw Mathew's eyes slide to the door. Jack moved like a shadow and grabbed Mathew by the collar dragging him to a chair the furthest away from the door. Jack stood over him arms crossed. Grant's eyes frantically darted around the room. Mac sat on the couch eyeing him. Jack had seen Mac use that gaze to pick apart a plan for interrorgating a prisoner.

"When did you marry Lizzy?" Mathew looked steadily at the wall over Mac's shoulder.

"Just after you left." Grant tilted his head defiantly, but still wouldn't meet Mac's eyes. Mac looked down and rubbed his hands.

"What happened?" Jack growled when Mac seemed stuck. Mathew ducked away from the Delta any defiance evaporating.

"The bitch went crazy, man." Jack didn't see Mac move. He knew his partner had amazing reflexes but Jack was startled by his speed. Mac had Grant by the throat and was shoving the man back against the back of the chair.

"You...can't...Kitty call the cops…"The man managed to gasp.

"I don't see anything wrong." Kitty said patting her curlers. Jack growled and grabbed his partner. He could feel Mac's muscles bunch with rage. Jack slowly pried the blonde's hands off Grant finger by finger.

"Mac, c'mon man. Think of Lizzy." Mac stepped back his face red, breathing hard. Jack pulled him away and sat him on the couch. Mac held his head in his hands visibly shaking. Jack turned to Kitty.

"Kitty can you get a glass of water." Kitty growled clearly disappointed with Jack's interference. Jack knelt in front of Mac. He could see guilt, shame and surprise flood into Mac's face. He looked up at Jack wide eyed. Jack winced and put a hand on Mac's shoulder.

"You ok, bud?" Mac was a billion light years from ok, but he nodded. Jack handed him the water. It shook. Jack left Mac sippiing it.

"Oh no, waiit until I sue…" Mathew shouted rubbing his red marred neck. Jack shut him up with a glare.

"I suggest you reel it in, dude. See my bro' here would feel terrible if he actually killed you." Jack leaned over Mathew grinning like a pouncing predator, "me? not so much." Grant shrank back. Jack nodded, "ok, so now tell us...politly, what happened to Miss Bowling." Jack moved to Mac's side and sat close enough to offer Mac silent comfort or grab him if he decided to finish Grant off.


	2. Chapter 2

Grant licked his lips looking at the glass in Mac's hand wistfully. He glanced at Kitty. She smiled as if daring him to ask. Grant coughed and stared at his hands.

"Well?" Jack demanded. Mathew rubbed his throat and coughed again. Mac stared into the water watching the lights and reflections as if they were a Rorshach that would make everything clear. Mathew frowned.

"The bi...lady was all lovey dovey when you were here, then after you left she went nuts. She got into drugs, dropped out of school...really off the rockers." Mac took a slow sip and looked up at Grant his eyes ice.

"But you married her?" Mathew snorted.

"Like I had a choice! Papa Bowling wanted his girl to marry someone with a last name." Jack's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. Mac looked down at his glass feeling like he'd been drinking tears. Mathew squirmed under Jack's baleful glare. "Neither one of us had a choice. Bowling paid my dad to make it happen." Mac spoke in a strangled voice not looking at Grant.

"She'd been happy." Mathew snorted and ran a hand through his sparce hand.

"I thought so too." Mathew said softly. Mac's head snapped up and he stared at Grant. The man's eyes held a tint of genuine grief. He leaned forward meeting Mac's gaze.

"She played both of us, Mac. Hell, she played everyone." Mac sat back. Before he could ask Mathew stood up and paced. He paused and looked down at Mac. "I never could compete with you, man. All she'd talk about was Mac this or Mac that, you were brilliant, handsome, funny, charming...shit she thought you were the second coming or something." Mac looked down. Jack nudged closer. Mac's Adam's apple bobbed in a storm of emotions. Grant kept speaking,

"She wasn't stupid. She saw you getting restless, bored or whatever...and her dad doesn't know anything if not manipulation. She knew you were going to go soon, she planned to go with you wherever you went...then snap suddenly she was into me and kicking you out the door." Mathew slowly bent and lifted the picture of their graduationa and scraped away the glass. He ignored the growl from his wife and pulled the frame apart. He tugged out the picture and handed it to Mac. Mac took it and stared at it a long time before closing his eyes. Mac's head dipped and he rubbed his forehead. Jack frowned. He could feel tremors coming from his partner. Mac was almost at ground zero. Jack stood up.

"Thanks...for your time." He babbled. Jack reached out a hand and grabbed Mac by the upper arm. He tugged. Mac looked up in surprise then nodded standing. They turned to leave. Mac paused.

"Wh...what did her father threaten her with?" Mac asked his voice hoarse. Grant shrugged.

"I don't know. If I had to guess, it would probably be something bad happening to you. She really didn't care about anything else." Jack could feel Mac's body weaken. He nodded and dragged his partner out the door. He put an arm around Mac's hunched shoulders. By the time they reached the car, Mac was full-on shaking his teeth rattling. HIs breathing had doubled. He leaned on the back of the rental and puked. Jack caught him as his knees weakened and walked Mac to the passenger's seat. Mac closed his eyes but couldn't stop the double streams running down his cheeks. Jack scowled and belted Mac into his seat. Mac didn't notice. Jack shut the door and walked around the rental. He paused feeling a row of angry mom's glare at him. Jack winced.

"Uh...sorry about the…" He motioned in the general direction of where Mac had vomitted, "Oh hell, nevermind." Jack grumbled sliding into the driver's seat. He pulled away from the neighborhood before the momma-posse called the cops. He looked over at Mac. The kid's pale skin was three shades past white. Mac rubbed his temples with his fingers. Jack turned the heat on in the car. He found a classical music station and turned it on low. Jack waited for the snarky comments. Neither man liked symphony music, but Jack knew Mac needed the calm. Jack focused on his driving. New England highways were a nightmare and Massachusetts were the worst of the worst. He glanced at his watch. They'd flown in from SF in the late morning, it'd taken 90 minutes to go out to Nantucket. It was closing on dinner time. Jack frowned. They had a red-eye back to SF. Jack yawned thinking of it. Jack glanced over at Mac. The blonde's shaking had slowed to trembles and he slumped against the door with eyes closed. His face was his normal pale with redness around the eyes and nose. Jack would have accepted he was sleeping except for the tension holding his body stiff. Jack frowned.

"Do you wan't to talk, brother?" Mac slowly opened his eyes and looked at Jack. Jack didn't like the depth of pain there. Mac blinked and shook his head. Jack nodded. "We're going to be leaving early. Is there anything else you want to do out here?" Jack slowed and signalled to turn into their hotel's lot. He looked over to his partner. Mac pushed upright and swallowed wiping his face clean of tears with his sleeve. Jack was about to ask again when Mac sighed and shook his head.

"No, I learned everything I needed to know." Mac's voice sounded as if he'd been screaming for twenty hours straight. Jack nodded and parked. Neither man moved to leave the silent car.

"Why wouldn't she tell me?" Mac asked. Jack winced hearing the abandoned 10-year-old's pain in the question, "I could have helped, we could have…" Jack took a breath and undid his seat belt. He pivoted and grabbed Mac by the shoulder. Mac glanced up at Jack then stared down at his hands that twisted impotently on his lap.

"Mac, this wasn't your fault, or hers from the sound of it. You were both a coupla kids, you couldn't have done anything differently." Jack knew he might as well have been tossing rain on a duck's back. Mac sniffed. Jack could feel the younger man building a fortress around him brick by brick. Jack shook his head and squeezed Mac's shoulder. "I know kiddo. I know." Jack whispered as if Mac had said something out loud. Jack go out and grabbed their go bags. Mac held out his hand and took his leather carry-on turning to walk beside Jack.

"Thanks for…" Mac trailed off not knowing a word big enough for what he owed Jack. Jack put his arm across Mac's shoulder and drew him in for a quick bro hug not saying anything.

The hotel was a middle value chain-basic, nothing fancy or extra. Mac threw his bag on the bed closest to the bathroom.

"I'm gonna take a shower." He said. Jack nodded. Jack pulled out his phone and tapped a button. Bozer answered before the first ring finished sounding.

"How's Mac?" Jack eyed the bathroom. The shower wasn't running yet. Jack could imagine Mac sobbing alone silently. It broke his heart.

"Not good. This Lizzy...they were going to get married." There was a long pause.

"What? How could I not know this?" Bozer's anger was almost palpable against Jack's ear.

"Boze, he was really messed up by it all...it's complicated."

"Yeah, but I could have been there for him."

"I know Boze, I wish he'd let you be there for him too." Another long pause. Bozer let out a long breath.

"I know this is Mac we're talking about."

"Yeah. Boze, Mac has to plan a funeral for this girl…"

"What? Why…"

"Boze, please?"

"You're right, sorry Jack."

"No problemo, amigo you know that. Look, he's gonna need help getting everything set up…"

"I can get most of it taken care of no problem." Bozer's voice told Jack how much he didn't want to do it; who ever enjoyed planning funerals? Jack paused, hesitant to voice his next request. Bozer picked up on this easily. Probably from years of being Mac's friend.

"What else Jack?"

"Boze, could you ask Riley to look into this kid. The coroner said suicide…"

"What? Oh man. Do you think it wasn't?  
"I'm not sure Boze, but I know there's a lot our boy's gonna need to know before he'll be able to lay it to rest."

"Yeah, I'll call her first thing in the morning...later in the morning." Jack smiled. He was so used to hopping more time zones than the TARDIS he hardly thought about coast to coast time differences.

"Yeah, sorry about that bud. Thanks, man." Jack hung up. He could finally hear water running in the bathroom. Jack frowned and scanned the room service menu. He called down and ordered two muffins and orange juices. Jack winced at the price but authorized it on his card. He'd just hung the room phone on its cradle when it rang. Jack jumped and sucked in air as he lifted it again.

"What?" He snapped irritated he was so easily startled. The front desk clerk was unruffled.

"This is Linda from the front desk, we have a letter here for a Mr. A. MacGyver." Jack frowned, his hackles rising. His hand automatically loosened his Baretta in its holster. Everything was in his name. The only ones who knew they were here did not wish Mac well.

"Could you send it up with room service?"

"Absolutly, thank you." Jack hung up and pulled his Baretta out laying it on the small table between the beds. Jack stood up and automatically checked the windows making sure they were locked. He pulled the curtains after studying the lights of Boston a long minute. He turned suprised to see Mac frowning at him. The kid wore shorts and a T shirt. His hair hung wet combed back from his face. Mac pointed at the gun.

"Expecting company?" Before Jack could answer there was a solid knock on the door. Jack scooped up his pistol and held it down by his leg. He glimpsed out the peephole then opened the door. A bored teen carried a dinner tray to the dresser. She turned and held out her hand. Jack glared at her. She huffed looking at hiim like he was stupid. Jack opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, Mac stepped forward and handed the girl a rolled up five. She smiled at him sweetly, glared at Jack and left.

"You always give them too much money…"Jack grumbled. Mac rolled his eyes but smiled. It was a well worn argument. Mac pulled away the cover surprised to see two muffins and OJ. He glanced at Jack who was still railing at the service industries reliance on tips. Mac chuckled and took the poppy seed muffin smearing it with something that looked like butter. He took a deep sip from the juice and sighed. It wasn't as good as the real orange juice you could get in Cali, but it wasn't bad. Or he was just that thirsty. Mac froze his eyes falling on a small pink envelope.

His name was written in a flowery cursive with decorative loops off each letter. Mac put down the food and ran his hand along the elegant writing feeling the quality ink and paper. He felt a pool of sadness open in the center of his chest. He remembered the vibrant woman who had written it-Lizzy's grandmother. Mac did some mental math. The woman would be in her 90s. He could see her hunched curved back, her wide smile of dentures that didn't quite fit and her deep eyes full of enough love for the whole world. Of everyone in the world, she was the only one Lizzy could count on to always be there. Mac moaned as his heart clenched tight as a fist. He should have been the one she could rely on...

"Mac, what is it?" Jack asked at his elbow. Mac looked up startled. He turned away from the worried older man. Mac itched his nose.

"Old Lizzy wrote this...Lizzy's grandmother...she...she was the only one who…" Mac cleared his throat and busied himself with gently peeling open the envelope. He paused and looked at Jack. "She liked me. She thought Lizzy and I would…" Mac shook his head shaking away tears. He pulled out a small folded letter on the same pink paper. Mac frowned and tipped the envelope. A key fell into his hand. The letter was short and direct.

"Angus this isn't your fault. Forgive Lizzy, Love Old Lizzy." At the bottom of the note was an address in SF without an explanation. Mac handed Jack the letter and went to peek out at Boston through the black out curtains.

"She sounds wise. You should listen to her." Jack said. Mac sighed. His shoulders slumped and he rubbed his forehead. Jack studied him.

"You need to eat something, maybe take some tylenol?" Mac nodded, which sent Jack's worry-meter to the red zone. Mac drank the juice then sat on the bed picking at the muffin, his eyes fixed on the nowhere line of the middle distance. Jack sat across from him and sipped his juice. He had his muffin down and fought to keep from chewing on the paper wraper. He sucked the juice down and breathed out happier. Jack watched Mac silently.. The kid ate slow, but at least he was getting something in his gut. Jack got a couple of tylenol out of his bag and handed them to Mac before the younger man emptied his juice. When he was done, Mac pulled back the covers climbed into bed and turned without a word putting his back to Jack.

Jack sighed. One of these days, the kid would learn to trust Jack when he was emotionally overwhelmed as much as he trusted him when they were in the field. Jack did another security sweep then left the bathroom nightlight on and turned off the rest of the lights. He reached out to make sure the Baretta was close, as he did every night. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Jack glanced over to his best friend and knew he wasn't going to sleep deeply tonight.

"'nite, Jack." Mac whispered. Jack smiled.

"'Nite kiddo. Sweet dreams." Or better yet, no dreams. Jack silently added closing his eyes.

Mac listened to Jack's even breathing. Mac rolled onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. Mac rubbed the corner of his eye. His headache had gone down a notch, his heart ache not so much. Mac tried to think of what his life would look like if he had married Lizzy. Would he have kids by now? Mac glanced over at Jack. Would he have gone into the army? Met Jack? Mac loved his life, he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Mac stared at the ceiling. Jack was right, they'd only been kids. It was his first time away from home. MIT had been a haven. For the first time he wasn't the weird freak everyone tormented. He was surrounded by other minds that challenged him. He'd made friends. Mac thought of Frankie, Smitty, and, of course, Lizzy. She'd concentrated in the living sciences-biology, anatomy. She wanted to help people. Mac sniffed and absently wiped at his cheeks again. Mac growled and rolled to his other side.

When Mac left he thought Lizzy would have a happy life. He'd figured it had probably been for the best. For him, it was. For Lizzy? The image of her body with her scalp peeled back stared at him from the darkness pressing down from the ceiling. Mac was up out of bed heading for the door before he realized he was moving. Her dead emerald eyes silently screamed from every direction around him. His heart thumped wildly. A noose tightened around his neck. It was all his fault. If he'd been here...If he hadn't abandoned her... Everything was blurry and he felt dizzy. His head throbbed. Mac was just like his father. He yanked the door open and stalked out. He needed air, he needed freedom, he needed to run. Mac slammed the door leading to the stairs hard enough to crash into the wall.

Mac stepped out into the cold night air. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He began to pace. A chill soaked into his bare arms, legs and feet. Goosebumps budded on his arms and he began to shiver. Mac didn't notice. He held his head in both hands. How could she be gone? How could she have left him? Mac railed at himself. What a selfish bastard! What did Lizzy owe him after he'd left her behind? Mac crossed his arms across his chest and stared at his toes as he paced. Why didn't she trust him? Why…? Mac stopped and rubbed his forehead. He looked up staring at a plane as it drew closer to the lit city below.

Why would she kill herself? The air sucked out of his lungs. Mac fell to his knees then onto his back. He curled into a ball. He'd been shot in the gut before and it hurt less than this. How could she give up on life? Give up hope so completly? Mac closed his eyes and bit his lip to keep from screaming.

Green ivy eyes, so alive and sparkling...the satin silk of her soft skin that smelled of roses and baby powder...her lips and teeth, the feel of her tongue...the taste...Mac heaved with back breaking sobs.

"Oh, kid," Mac heard it from far away. Jack sat him up and wrapped him in his arms. Mac dug his head into his partner's shoulder and sobbed. Jack sat back, his own eyes prickling with tears. He made comforting sounds and rubbed the kid's back. Mac's body quaked trying to shake itself into pieces. Jack held on. Mac hadn't sobbed like this when Nikki died, or pretended to or whatever. Jack sighed. Nikki had been the first adult relationship Mac'd had, but Jack knew from experience, there was something special about your first relationship ever. The childhood puppy love Mac had with Penny, while adorable, didn't count. And then to have Lizzy kill herself? It was the perfect storm in Mac's ginormous brain, a vicious circle of what-ifs, guilt and grief.

Jack felt his leg go numb. Mac pulled away rubbing at his wet red nose and swollen eyes. He looked down, his shoulders slumped. Jack could feel the kid fold into himself. Jack wasn't going to let that happen again. He reached out and shook Mac's shoulder.

"Hey, Mac?" Mac turned away not wanting to meet Jack's eyes. Jack grunted and stretched his legs straight out wincing at the pins and needles. He leaned back on his arms. "Amanda Bryce." He said letting the wistful memory run through his mind. Mac moved to Jack's side mirroring his pose. Jack smiled, the story was bringing Mac out of his head. "We met in college and she was...wow, bro...I tell you I fell for her hard." Jack paused. Mac sniffed wiping his face with the edge of his shirt.

"What happened?" Mac asked interested in spite of himself. Jack grinned.

"She was my girl, man. We hung out with each other, talked to each other for hours. I lost my virginity to her." Jack chuckled as he remembered the awkward breathless fumbling in a cold car. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mac was studying him. "I thought we'd be together forever, but that didn't happen." Jack sighed at a familiar pang. He turned to Mac, "She dumped me for Marve Nelson, a fat dude with more oil on his face than in all of Huston. It really was the beauty and the beast, bro. They got married right after graduation. She's a dentist, he's a 'landfill technician' whatever the hell that is and they have a passel of rugrats." Jack sighed. "I know it isn't anywhere near the same thing, Mac. Especially with her…" Jack faltered.

"Suicide?" Mac asked. Jack's gaze met Mac's. Jack frowned reminded of the day they were looking through Frankie's lab and Jack stumbled reading over the word ''remains. Mac's voice was distance, he'd flipped into objective scientist mode. Jack nodded.

"Yeah. I can't even imagine…" Jack leaned forward and put his arms around his knees, "but Mac one thing I do know is it isn't your fault. From the sounds of it, her family, drugs...and a whole lot of other stuff played a part in this." Mac looked away sniffing. Jack ran a hand through his sparce hair. "Who you remember and who Lizzy was when she died are probably two different people, kiddo." They were silent a long minute. Mac sighed and leaned forward staring in front of him.

"I know that, Jack." Mac said his voice barely audible. He began to chew on a cuticle.

"But?" Mac huffed and threw up his hands. He stood and began pacing.

"Why Jack? Why would someone...do that? Why…." Mac stopped hugging himself, unable to say the knife that turned deeper into his gut.

"Why did she leave you?" Jack asked standing up facing Mac his arms crossed. Mac glared at him as if the old man had clocked him across the chin. Jack put a hand on Mac's shoulder. "Mac, I don't think she had a choice. Her asshole family and that dick head Grant…" Mac's chin jutted out and his eyes sparkled with pain and anger.

"True, Jack. But why didn't she call me when she was free of all that? Why?" Mac's teeth had started chattering. Jack put an arm around the younger man's shoulders and turned him back to the hotel. Mac yawned and let Jack lead him to their room.

"Seems to me, amigo, we might figure that out when we see what that key opens." Mac nodded. He stumbled to his bed and flopped down face first asleep on contact. Jack tutted and wrapped Mac up in blankets. He locked the door and did another security check. Jack didn't close his eyes until Mac's breathing was deep and even.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack sighed resigning himself to another day without sleep. He'd tried to sleep on the plane but Mac was vibrating with tension. The kid had only slept a couple of hours before bouncing out of bed and pacing. Mac sucked down half a pot of coffee and chased Jack out to the car like a guard dog after a postman. Jack let Mac stalk back and forth at the teminal hoping his partner would burn off his nervous energy. No such luck. The first flight from Logan to O'hare was a study in fidgetting. The flight attendants hovered around the two men trying to do what they could to keep the restless MacGyver settled enough to stay in his seat. While in his seat, Mac crossed and uncrossed his legs, bounced his knees, tapped his fingers on his lap and raked the cabin endlessly seeking a way out.

Jack tried talking Mac down but Mac was down to monosyllables and grunts. He breathed in tiny puffs and sweat dampened his forehead. Jack frowned-anxiety and impatience another perfect storm in the world of Mac's ginormous brain. During the hour layover in Chicago Jack was pretty sure his partner walked the entire airport seven times before they boarded. As they flew off the anthill Rockies Mac went still and silent. He stared out the window his blue eyes reflecting the crystalline clear sky. Jack could feel him sink into realization that he was almost back home and while he'd probably get the answers to his questions or not, it was truly over. Jack put a hand on the kid's shoulder. Mac didn't notice. Jack sighed and handed his beer bottle back to the flight attendent. He knew needing these answers was an important step toward what Mac was avoiding-letting Lizzy go. Jack yawned and stretched glancing at his watch. He leaned back into a shallow doze for the rest of the flight.

Mac was still quiet as they made their way to his house. Jack wanted to run away himself after the hour it took to get their meager luggage, the two hours it took to get to his car and get out of the lot, and the 90 minutes it took him to drive to Mac's. Jack was antsy, sweaty, and gernerally pissed off at the world as he pulled into Mac's driveway. Mac unloaded his leather duffle and leaned into Jack's window. He opened his mouth to say thank you, but froze with his mouth open. 'Thank you' seemed so inadequate. Jack smiled and waved at Mac.

"It's ok, kiddo. I'll come by first thing tomorrow and we'll go down to SF. Ok?" Mac nodded and stepped back. He watched until the Shelby vanished around a corner into the warren of Mac's neighborhood. Mac sighed. He loved Jack and owed him more than he could ever make up to him, but he was glad to be free-at least for awhile. Jack would never say so, but Mac knew his grief hurt his friend. Mac didn't need the guilt. Aside from that, Mac told himself. Jack looked like crap. Mac had tried to go to SF alone for that very reason. Jack being Jack of course wouldn't allow it.

Mac stepped into his living room dropping his bags with relief. He took a deep breath and let the familiar silence seep into his nerves. He saw a binder on the kitchen table with a long note on it from Bozer. Mac smiled and shook his head.

Behind his back Jack had gotten Bozer to help making arrangements. Mac eyed the lists and prices and other things Bozer had researched. Mac sighed and threw them on the table crossing to brew more coffee. Mac pulled a cup from the spigot before it could flow into the pot. He drank it down hot. It didn't warm the numbness he'd felt creeping in his bones since he'd first gotten the call two days ago. Mac rubbed his eyes. 48 hours. Mac glanced at his watch. He'd still have time to get to SF before dark. He drained his coffee, grabbed his keys and left again.

As he drove, Mac used the voice control on his phone to call a funeral home in Mission City. When he thought about somewhere to burry Lizzy it was the only thing he could come up with that felt right. Everyone else had disowned her and given up on her. Mac didn't necessarily believe in anything after death, but he knew LIzzy did. If she was right, he wanted her to know that she belonged somewhere, and that she would always be part of his family. When his mother was sick, Mac's grandfather had bought a family plot for five or six generations of little MacGyver's. Mac didn't think he or Mac's mom would mind. Mac chuckled. Maybe it would keep them happy until he actually did settle down and have kids, if he ever did.

The early afternoon sun was warm after the chill of Boston. Mac stood a minute soaking it in before removing his sunglasses and walking up to the manager's office. The address Old Lizzy had given him belonged to a mini-storage rental. The manager looked like Luigi from the Mario Bros games.

"Who are you?" He demanded glaring at Mac. Mac frowned and pulled out his ID. Luigi squinted at it a long time then looked at Mac raising an eyebrow. "MacGyver? You gotta be Mac! I was beginning to think you didn't really exist!" The man came around the desk and pumped Mac's hand. His face fell with worry.

"Have you seen Lizzy? She hasn't been back in over a week...I know she sometimes goes out to Golden Gate, but she's never been gone this long. We've been worried sick…" Mac coughed around a fist in his throat.

"I'm sorry Mr…"

"Codgie, everyone calls me Codgie on account of me being an old codger. Lizzy came up with that one she is so fucking smart!"

"Ok, Codgie...I'm so sorry, Lizzy is dead." Mac watched as the older man's body seemed to crumple one piece at a time until he was sobbing. The man grabbed Mac around the waist and dragged him into a bear hug of grief. Mac winced trying to think of a polite way to break free.

"I'm so sorry, Mac. That was very inappropiate of me." Codgie said as he backed away feeling Mac stiffen. Mac ducked his head and itched the back of his neck at a loss. Codgie hurrumphed then leaned over pushing a button. The wooden gate slid up. Codie waved. "It's the third building back and second from the right." Mac thanked the older man and followed his direction. Mac frowned as he approached the door to Lizzy's storage unit. Gathered in the parking lot between and past the buildings was a tent town. Seven of the storage areas were open and people of all ages and sizes milled in and out. Mac saw hammocks, homemade lean-tos trash of all kinds repurposed in ways that made Mac's eyes gleam with admiration.

His heart sank. Lizzy had been living here? Mac parked as close as he could to Lizzy's storage area. As he walked closer the vagrant camp went silent and cold eyes watched every muscle move with suspicion. A small African-American with a fluff of white on his head and scars down his face and bare arms blocked his way. Mac sighed and waited forcing his body to remain in a calm, nonthreatening stance. The man didn't say anything. Mac licked his lips.

"Hi, my name's MacGyver...Mac, I'm…" The camp burst out into murmurs and smiles. Mac blinked. The small man in front of him looked skeptical but stepped aside. "Uh...ok, thanks." A long-limbed woman wearing tight shorts and a half T walked beside him and curled her arms around his. Mac swallowed wondering if she'd charge him for it.

"I'm Mindy, I am so glad to finally meet you! To hear Lizzy tell it you're better than JC himself!" Mac looked down feeling hot. His obvious blush made many laugh. Mac gritted his teeth realizing these people didn't have much else to enjoy in their difficult situation. He stopped at the white metal door and turned to look at Mindy. He wanted answers he told himself; he wasn't avoiding opening the storage unit, he really wasn't.

"How long did Lizzy live down here?" Mac asked. Mindy looked over his shoulder. Mac turned to see others wind their way to him murmuring among themselves. An old woman with frizzy wild hair stepped beside Mac. One of her eyes was a green rheumy mass the other seemed off center.

"She came out here back in...January of '14?" The old woman sounded like an angry crow. Mac didn't notice he turned away rubbing his forehead. Lizzy lived on the streets that long? Why didn't she call? The crone put a grimy wrinkled hand with long dirty nails on Mac's arm. Her face was grim. "She did it, didn't she?" The woman lowered her voice. Mac swallowed and nodded. Mindy wrapped the old woman in a hug and began to cry. They drifted back among the others and soon the whole group was wailing and holding each other. Mac frowned and turned away feeling very much the intruder.

Mac opened the lock on the door and raised it with a rolliing crash. Mac blinked taking in the cramped quarters. The 15 x 15 foot cement square had been halved by a curtain. The front half had a small table made from an industrial wire spool. Around it sat six child-sized chairs all cracked and broken wood held together by duct tape. On the wall was a car windshield that had been used as a dry erase board. Someone was learning basic math and reading. Along the other wall were stacks of books. Few were intact, from ripped cover to taped pages Mac noticed there was everything from cardboard children's books to loose volumes of stained encyclopedia britannica. Mac shook his head in wonder.

"She was my teacher." A young voice said at Mac's knee. He looked down at a tiny African-American girl whose hair was neatly braided and held back by colorful ribbons. Her dress was tattered and torn but clean. She held a dirty stuffed animal in her arm that could have been a dog or cat. Her wide dark eyes didn't show grief for Lizzy, but for her entire world. Mac smiled at her weakly. "I learned all my letters and numbers...she said I was ready for a real school." Pride shown in the girl's endless eyes.

"I bet you are." Mac managed. The girl grinned showing her missing front teeth then skipped away. Mac ran a hand down his face and crossed behind the curtain. Mac's eyes shut against the burning tears. He waited until he was in control again.

Lizzy's entire life had been boiled down to a grimy bedroll made from torn blankets and a sleeping bag with the stuffing hanging out, a neat stack of canned foods and can opener, and a small pink book. Mac had seen prison cells look homier. He crossed to the bed roll and sat down pulling the book to him. To his surprise it was addressed to him:

 _Mac,_

 _I don't know why but I know this will get to you after I'm gone. I don't know what you must think of me, a blast from the forgotten past? The one that got away? A pathetic tragedy? A what-if? I'm not any of those, lover._ Mac sniffed at the intimate nickname they once shared. Mac cleared his throat. _If you are the great man I think you are, know you are, then you are driving yourself crazy trying to figure out how a pretty young thing like me ended up in a horrible place like this. And knowing you you're finding someway to twist this into guilt. STOP IT._

Mac smiled. He could hear her voice and feel the playful punch she'd give him when he got 'too broody.' _My choices led to this, MINE. These people here helped me and took me in when I was a mess. Other than you, I think they're the only ones who ever showed me what I think love should be. I've been strung out on heroin for the past year...I can't break it, Mac I'm too...Mac I'm so sorry I've given up._

 _Do you remember the quote I told you about from that stupid show in the '80s that no one ever watched? Rain's only friend is a skin thick enough to wash it off, or something like that. Do you remember?_ Mac frowned. He didn't. _Me and Rain-this crappy cesspit of life-we were besties for a long time. My family, that asshole Mathew, school...all of it washed off me, never sinking in, never hurting...until I met you._ Mac ran a shaking hand through his hair. _You had a pretty good skin (and sexy :) )on you too. That's one of the reason we worked. We both lived in out little fortresses playing houses. I needed more. I know you wanted to give it to me...but you couldn't. I didn't want to tear your walls down, I didn't want to hurt you. So I left. I know I hurt you, but it was a quick snap and would heal quickly. You had an awesome life ahead of you, I would have anchored you down._

 _At least that's what I told myself. I was wrong, again. Everything I always do is wrong!_ Mac rubbed his finger over spots of blurred ink. Lizzy had cried when she wrote this. Mac sighed. _You crashed my walls down, you were safe...I had to run, you see that right? I'm so sorry Mac, please don't hate me forever! Everything just got so fucked up. I tried everything to keep the rain out, to keep everything...everyone out...to keep you out. I wanted to call you so many times...beg you to love me, to save me. And you would have given up everything to do it...so I never called. Who the fuck am I kidding? I'm not the hero, you are! I didn't want you to see what I am-a useless druggie swirling down the drain...Not much else to say, I guess. I don't know if you love me, but please don't hate me. I just can't stay out here no more. Lizzy_

Mac rubbed his eyes. His tears splashed over hers through time blending together on the paper. Mac stood up feeling exhausted and empty. He finally had his answers, at least all the ones he was going to get. He looked up at the homeless camp who stood watching him mumbling and fidgeting. Mac pushed through them and walked to his car ignoring calls and words called at him from behind. He had to get out now. He caught a glimpse of everything in Lizzy's unit being given out to others in the group and stomped the gas harder.

Jack would probably have killed Mac if he knew Mac drove back to LA that same day. Hell, Mac told himself, his partner might kill him when he finds out, but he had to go, to run, to...Mac didn't know what. Mac pulled into his drive close to midnight having no memory of the trip at all other than vague annoyance at the traffic. He leaned his head on the steering wheel; his shoulders slumped. Mac didn't think he had the energy to hold himself upright. Mac closed his eyes listening to his breathing. _Rains only friend is a skin thick enough to wash it off._ Mac's skin felt too tight about ready to burst. Mac forced his breathing to slow, reigning in his emotions, gaining control again. He sat back up and yawned. Mac was stepping out of the jeep when he heard the familiar growl of Jack's shelby launch itself into Mac's drive.

"Here we go." Mac muttered shutting and locking the jeep's door. Before he could take a step Mac was shoved up against the side of his car hard. Mac grunted but offered no resistance. Jack's face was red, almost purple. He leaned in close enough that Mac's eyes crossed trying to focus on his friend's face.

"JUST WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Mac winced at Jack's bellow less than four inches from his ears. Mac didn't try to answer. He knew Jack was just starting. As Jack ranted about how stupid Mac was for someone so smart and listing off the thousands of ways Mac could've hurt himself, Jack finished with the coup d'tat cold guilt. Jack finally stepped back breathing hard. He ran a hand through his short hair trying to pull in his anger. It didn't help that Mac stood there without a word letting him vent and unintentionally smack him against the side of the kid's jeep. Jack looked down.

"Dammit, Mac. I didn't mean to lose it...it's just…" Mac cut the older man off by reaching forward and pulling Jack into a hug. Jack's mouth hung open a second in surprise then he blinked and hugged back. Jack's gut churned from worry. This was not a Mac thing to do. Mac wasn't crying, or distraught, or...Jack had no idea what was going on in the kid's head. He sighed and held on hoping for the best.

Finally Mac stepped back. He smiled at Jack.

"Thanks, partner." Mac said his voice soft. Jack frowned at the kid suspiciously.

"For what?" Mac let the older man go. Mac shrugged, grabbed his gear and turned to go inside.

"What the fu...are you alright?" Jack called from the end of the driveway. Mac turned at the door. His eyes looked far away then he sighed.

"No, but I will be. Coming?" Mac opened the door and waited. Jack blinked, he'd intended to go home or tie the kid up or beat on him or...Jack smiled.

"Sure why not? _Die Hard?_ " Mac rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You know there are other movies, Jack." Mac followed his friend into the house.

"Ok, how about _Sixth Sense?"_ Mac groaned and shut the door behind them.


End file.
